California Girls

Five hundred dollars. He’d written her a check for five hundred dollars. Canceling the wedding would cost her at least five thousand. Maybe more. Plus there was her dress—that was money she would never see again. Now she had to worry about finding a place and first and last months’ rent and moving her stuff and paying off the stupid wedding.

Hatred rose up inside of her, boiling into anger and disgust. “Wherever you are, rat bastard, I hope you get food poisoning and a rash and go bald. I hate you. Hate you!”

She threw the pillow against the wall. It was less satisfying than when she’d thrown her phone, but she couldn’t afford another replacement. Then she curled up on the sofa and told herself she was going to feel sorry for herself for the whole night. In the morning she would be strong, but for now there was just pity and maybe some brownies she’d stashed in the freezer. Because right now, her life totally and completely sucked.

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